


Merry Christmas to My Favorite Ho, Ho, Ho!

by 2ndstartotheright



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: AU, Anal Sex, Bottom! Namjoon, Crack Fic, Crossdressing, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Smut, joon’s been thru some shit but maybe that’ll be a story for another time, namjin are in LOVE love, started from a pun and now we’re here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 06:59:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17157383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2ndstartotheright/pseuds/2ndstartotheright
Summary: “I do not have a Santa kink, oh my God!”“Says the guy that just got fucked by someone in a Santa Claus suit but go off I guess.”[neither the author nor fic namjoon has a santa kink. seokjin just looks really nice in a dress.]





	Merry Christmas to My Favorite Ho, Ho, Ho!

**Author's Note:**

> This is the love child between me and [@violanthe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/violanthe) conceived under the influence of a Santa joke last Christmas. Enjoy!
> 
> Ps. I love you bITCH ain’t never gonna stop loving you BITCH, for sticking around with me through all the bad jokes, cephalopod memes and for being such a great beta!

Namjoon tugged his coat a little tighter around himself as he stepped out of the cafe and into the cold winter air and directly into a puddle of slush. Excellent. Christmas Eve so far had been a treat. 

He cried a little on the inside over his wet shoes as he bent down to gather his mom and sister into a hug, the former placing a rather damp kiss on his numb cheek and the latter giving his fingers a comforting squeeze and ducking quickly out of reach before he ruffled her hair out of habit. Namjoon looked past his mother to return his father's curt nod with a slight one of his own. 

"I'll miss you, Joonie," his mother said, drawing his gaze again, her hand seeming to tighten on the lapel of his coat just a little – an involuntary reaction on her part each time they bid each other farewell.

"I'll miss you too, mom. Be safe."

"Your father misses you too. You should visit us sometime." 

"Right." He looked away, anywhere but at his father who didn't bother to agree or contradict her. They both knew it was a lie and it fell flat and ugly between them, pushing them further apart.

A beat of silence later – and an awkward clearing of the throat from his sister – his family was finally clambering into their car, and with one final wave from his mother they were gone. Gone until the next holiday where they were obligated to be civil towards each other. 

 

Namjoon used to love the holidays – the silent hours spent helping his mother in the kitchen, his father with the fairy lights around the house and playing out in the yard with his sister and their dog. He even liked the painfully awkward family dinners where he had to greet relatives he hadn't even known existed. 

But the last few years the holiday season had meant tense family lunches, initiated solely by his mother, a fact Namjoon was sure of because he knew that given the choice, his father would not have made the drive to see him. 

Now he figured Christmas was perhaps one of the most overrated holidays to ever exist and was always tempted to sleep through it. After all, what was so fucking great about Christmas anyway? Hang some glittery balls on a dying tree, wrap-up some presents, and suddenly some old fat dude who doesn't even exist is all the rage? 

Unfortunately Namjoon was surrounded by people of the opposite school of thought, people who took their Christmas celebrations seriously, no funny business allowed: gift exchanges, family reunions, Christmas carols, and all that jazz. And by people, Namjoon meant his mother, his mother who had held his hand through everything and who had perhaps been the most heartbroken with each year that had passed since Namjoon had left home, since Kim Seokjin. 

 

At the thought of Seokjin, Namjoon's pace quickened, expression softening into something almost happy, cheek dimpled by the fond smile curving his lips. He shuffled his way onto the train, more than ready to get home, running a hand through his windswept hair in a futile effort to tame it. 

It had been two years now since he had moved in with Seokjin, and Namjoon had long since decided that he had never made a better decision in his life. Seokjin was perfect for Namjoon, perfect in general, and all of a sudden all he could think about was getting home – to Seokjin.  
The tension from the family lunch already fading to a manageable ache behind his eyelids and a small.

It wasn't soon enough for Namjoon, but it wasn't too long before he was opening the door to their apartment, stomping his feet to shake loose the clumps of slush and snow clinging to his wet shoes.

 

He found Seokjin in the living room, curled up on the couch, bathed in the soft glow from the tv, looking warm in one of those sweaters that were too big on him – the ones Namjoon secretly loved because he adored the sweater paws and the way the sweater would hang off Seokjin's shoulders and expose his collarbones. Namjoon had a thing for those. He would deny it if anyone were to ask but he was such a sucker for Seokjin's collarbones and sweater paws – positively whipped. 

"I thought I heard you," Seokjin said, sitting up straighter, lips curving into a smile. Namjoon dropped down heavily next to him with a groan. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" Seokjin asked, keeping his eyes on the TV, maintaining a neutral expression, but his voice was laced with traces of concern.

"God, no. No more talking,” Namjoon shifted to face Seokjin and wrapping his hands around his waist. “Kisses, cuddles, both. I need attention," he mumbled against the side of Seokjin's warm neck, lips softly brushing their way up to Seokjin's jawline, raising goosebumps in their wake which had Seokjin laughing softly and arching his neck. 

"Don't laugh at me," Namjoon whined with a nip just behind Seokjin's ear, making Seokjin utter the quietest gasp. "I have enough of that to last till next Christmas, thanks to my dad." 

Seokjin seemed to take his cue at Namjoon's darkening tone and angled his face just the right way so that Namjoon's wandering lips slid against his – parted but soft and warm – catching Namjoon off guard. Namjoon smiled against the kiss, hand sliding up from Seokjin's waist and into his thick hair, fisting in it when Seokjin's teeth caught Namjoon’s bottom lip between his teeth, tugging softly and slipping his tongue past his lips when Namjoon sighed into it. 

The chill that had seeped into his bones faded away at the rush of pleasure that came with every soft press of Seokjin's lips against his. The ache that had settled somewhere deep within his chest since that morning was almost gone. Namjoon let himself be pushed back on the couch – a warm and comforting weight anchoring him in that moment – and held Seokjin close when he swung a leg over and settled on Namjoon's lap.

"I missed you, today," Seokjin mumbled throatily, his plump lips brushing Namjoon's with every syllable, sending sparks shooting down Namjoon's spine, and Namjoon’s hands tightened where they clutched Seokjin's hips flush against his.

“I don’t believe you.” Namjoon’s head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut with a sigh as Seokjin’s lips traveled softly over the sensitive skin where Namjoon’s neck met his shoulder. 

“Yeah, I lied, sorry. I got so much work done. I’m almost done with that paper. Yoongi finally found decent wifi so we ended up bouncing some ideas back and forth,” Seokjin whispered, lips still brushing against Namjoon’s throat with every word, sounding satisfied with himself. 

“That’s good, baby. I know you’ve been stressed about it,” Namjoon hummed, carding a hand through Seokjin’s hair, letting him burrow in to the crook of his neck, wrapping his other hand over Seokjin’s narrow waist – the simple hug doing wonders at draining away his anxious energy. “Want me to take a look at it?” 

“If i have to talk academic bullshit for one more second today I’m going to pull my hair out.” Seokjin groaned, voice muffled by Namjoon’s own sweater. “But– oh!” Seokjin exclaimed, disentangling himself from Namjoon. “I’ve got something that’ll cheer both of us up, actually!” 

“What?” Namjoon pulled away, eyeing Seokjin’s flushed face a little suspiciously even as Seokjin jumped out of his lap with a bounce in his step. 

“Do not move. I’ll be right back.” Seokjin pressed Namjoon more firmly back on the couch before bolting in the direction of their room. 

“Close your eyes,” Seokjin said, from somewhere behind him just as Namjoon was about to say fuck it and go find Seokjin from wherever he disappeared off to. 

“Please don’t let this be another surprise party. I told you I don’t even like half of the people I work with.” Namjoon called out.

Seokjin huffed. “Do you want to see it or not, Namjoon?” 

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” Namjoon said, squinting his eyes shut. “They’re closed. Show me, I want to see.” 

When Namjoon fluttered open his eyes, the last thing he expected was Seokjin in a Santa outfit. He’d survived through several of Seokjin’s fashion disasters to the point where nothing fazed him anymore – except this was… what he was wearing was tiny. It was hardly a costume, more like a mini dress, what the fuck? A small number made of what looked like red velvet with white piping at the hem, flaring out, skimming the top of Seokjin’s thighs. Its sleeves were falling off his wide shoulders, accentuating them even more. 

Whoever made the costume clearly hadn’t been aiming at historical or cultural accuracy but damn if it didn’t look fucking amazing on Seokjin.

Namjoon could feel his mouth gaping open, sensed Seokjin’s satisfied smile, that was fading to a look of confusion and then an expression bordering on unsure. But all he could say was, “Um.” 

Seokjin placed his hand on his hip, mouth curling to a scowl of disbelief. “That’s it?” 

Namjoon backtracked. “What I meant was you look Amazing.”

“Tell me more,” Seokjin purred, settling down next to him.

“Uh… talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before?” Namjoon listed off every adjective worthy of the sight in front of him, voice going high and breathy – still feeling as if it didn't quite cover just how much this was affecting him. 

“Thank you. That’s the kind of attention I crave and deserve.” The satisfaction on Seokjin’s face said it was good enough. 

“But, Jin – what? Why? How? I’ve got so many questions.” Namjoon’s brain still seemed to be having trouble processing his reality. His eyes weren’t deceiving him – the facts were right there: Seokjin was wearing a small, red dress. But then on the other hand, Seokjin was wearing a small, red dress. “What?” 

“Shhh.” Seokjin placed a finger against Namjoon’s lips, drawing his questions to a halt. He leaned close, until Namjoon could see Seokjin’s hastily drawn kohl on his waterline. “What does Santa say when Mrs. Santa wants him to talk dirty to her?” 

That –– was not where Namjoon thought this was heading. 

Seokjin leaned a fraction closer, smelling like something heavenly, and distinctively Seokjin . Namjoon involuntarily moved closer still – their lips a fraction apart – the fine hairs on the back of his neck standing when Seokjin placed his lips next to his ear, brushing the shell of it, his breath warm as he whispered, “Ho, Ho, Ho.” 

Namjoon blinked, bewildered, because, what? Also, kind of turned on. Not by the Santa joke – because if that were the case it would require some in depth searching into his childhood – but by how Seokjin’s bare thighs were pressed up against Namjoon, the appeal of his bared collarbones and the low cut dress putting his chest on display, and despite the joke, how low Seokjin’s voice had gotten. 

Seokjin however, looked delighted to have finally shared his joke, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to say that? I paid 12000 Won for this outfit just so it’d be perfect.” 

At this point Namjoon wasn’t even surprised at the lengths Seokjin would go to for a few laughs. He found it endlessly endearing, this innate innocence Seokjin possessed, this knack for making people happy. It was something that was out of Namjoon’s own nature and even when he acted exasperated at it sometimes, on the inside there was always warmth blooming. This wonderful man was his. 

Besides, Namjoon really, really appreciated Seokjin going the extra mile, especially this time because maybe he could get used to this. Not sexy Santa but, he would be a liar if he said Seokjin didn’t look stunning in a dress. 

“The joke? You’ve done better. The dress? Ten out of ten. I’m not gonna lie to you, Jin, that’s hot. This really boils my noodles,” Namjoon said pulling Seokjin closer. 

It was Seokjin’s turn to look surprised, a slight flush colouring the apples of his cheeks, matching the tops of his reddened ears even despite Namjoon’s word vomit and horrible attempt at humor. 

“How hot?” Seokjin whispered, seemingly pleased with himself, breath hitching when Namjoon reached over to draw a slow spiral on one of his exposed thighs. 

“Hot enough that I wanna get on my knees and suck your dick right now. Get you off while you’re still wearing that pretty little dress.” Namjoon leaned closer, feeling the smooth skin of Seokjin’s thigh, the goosebumps that rose as he dragged a hot palm further up and under the hem of the dress. 

Seokjin’s chest flushed red, the tips of his ears burning. “Is that so?” Seokjin murmured, warm eyes holding Namjoon’s gaze through long lashes. “Careful, Joonie. You’ll make it onto my naughty list.” 

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Namjoon said, dragging Seokjin in for a kiss, soft and warm at first but burning hotter – searing – when Seokjin moaned low into Namjoon’s mouth before scrambling onto his lap, grinding down, already hard underneath the dress and sending sparks up Namjoon’s spine. 

Namjoon tightened his grip on Seokjin’s thighs, hefting him up and laying him down on the couch. It was a tight fit, both of them having limbs too long for it to be comfortable in the long run, but for now it would do. Seokjin bracketed Namjoon between his legs, urging him even closer, rising up on one hand for another kiss. 

Seokjin scrabbled at Namjoon’s hoodie, hand slipping underneath it, dragging his fingernails across the flexing muscles. “Off. Take it off.” 

Namjoon smiled against Seokjin’s mouth. “So needy.” 

Seokjin’s hands were roaming down Namjoon’s torso as soon as he had dragged the hoodie over his head, fingers marking tracks all the way down to his hips, pressing a soft kiss to the divot between Namjoon’s pectorals, moving over to take one soft brown nipple in his mouth, flicking it till it hardened to a nub. 

Namjoon hissed between his teeth, gripping Seokjin’s shoulders tight, head tipping back in pleasure when Seokjin continued to map out his skin with soft nips, dragging in a ragged breath, just knowing he was going to wake up to a few marks tomorrow where Seokjin was sucking his skin in between his teeth before soothing it away with a lick and a kiss.

Seokjin reached down, popping open the button on Namjoon’s pants and palming the hard outline of his cock through his underwear with one hand, then sliding inside, curling around him, freeing his cock from the fabric. “Fuck.” 

Namjoon shuddered, stomach swooping, at the sight of Seokjin – his dress rucked up around his waist, eyes wide and trained down on his hand – using the precum dribbling down the side of Namjoon’s cock to slick up the shaft, tightening his fist around the shiny head on the upstroke. 

The leather creaked under their collective weight when Namjoon shifted them around until Seokjin was laid out on the couch, staring up at him with wide eyes. Namjoon bunched up the velvet of the skirt in his hands, shoving it up to ease Seokjin out of his underwear. His cock sprung out – curved and beautiful – warm, thick and full when Namjoon wrapped his long fingers around the base and stroked him slow, spreading the slickness to ease the friction. “How are you so fuckin’ sexy?” 

“I don’t know what to tell you. It’s– Ah,” Seokjin arched his back, feet digging into the cushion when Namjoon bent down to place a soft kiss under the flushed head, tongue darting out and flicking out at the fold underneath, one hand holding down Seokjin’s hips firmly. 

“It’s what?” Namjoon breathed, feeling Seokjin’s cock jerk at the gust of warm air ghosting over the head. 

“It’s – fuck,” Seokjin cut short, a moan escaping his lips when Namjoon darted out his tongue in kittenish licks at the same place, knowing full well it drove Seokjin mad.

“It’s a fucking gift.” Seokjin held Namjoon's chin, stilling him in place, an inch away from his cock, looking almost relieved at finally being able to finish his reply. 

“Not going to argue with that, Jin. Your cock’s a national fucking treasure,” Namjoon agreed.

Seokjin giggled. “That’s punny.” 

“Oh wow. Why are we still dating?” Namjoon demanded, shaking his head in disbelief. 

Leave it to Seokjin to never miss an opportunity. To be fair, Namjoon had been asking for it this time. He really should’ve seen it coming. Fuck. This was seriously killing his boner. It was messing with the whole ‘we’re a kinky, totally not a vanilla couple who cracked puns while having mind blowing sex’ vibe they’d got going here. But not really, because Namjoon’s cock was still standing at attention – literally begging for some. 

“Because my dick’s a work of art and deserves a place at the MOMA? Plus, you love me,” Seokjin said sweetly, fluttering his lashes at Namjoon. 

Namjoon dragged a palm up Seokjin’s body, feeling his abs ripple – loving the honey pink undertone akin to a glow – sweat glistening and warm under his hand. “I do. So much,” Namjoon smiled, threading his fingers with Seokjin, tugging him upright and to his feet. 

They didn’t make it to the bed as soon as they could’ve – Seokjin crowding him up against the wall in their dimly lit hallway to kiss him hard, tugging his jeans off the rest of the way down – but when they finally do make it, they drop down on the mattress in a flurry of limbs, neither one willing to let go, hands roving over exposed skin. 

Seokjin strained over him, hands on the either side of Namjoon’s face, aligning their cocks together and rolling down his hips, eliciting a moan against Namjoon’s lips when Namjoon angled his hips upward in tandem with Seokjin’s pace. 

“Tell me what you want, baby,” Seokjin groaned, resting his forehead on Namjoon’s – breath coming down harsh and hot on his face. 

Namjoon dug his heel into the back of Seokjin’s thigh, using it as leverage to grind up on Seokjin’s cock once more. “Fuck me. Need you so bad, Jin. Need you in me.” They were so close that Namjoon could see how Seokjin’s usual soft brown irises were glowing darker, a deeper shade with his pupils wide and blown from pleasure. 

“Shit. Okay, I can do that,” Seokjin whispered, raining down two, three – four kisses all over his face, ending with his lips before easing back up. 

Without Seokjin’s heat on him the air was much colder, the chill of the sheets refreshing against Namjoon’s flushed body.

Namjoon closed his eyes, letting the slide of their bedside drawer fade away to background noise, shuddering when one of Seokjin’s hands spread him open, a slick finger pressing against his asshole, pushing against the ring of muscle. 

Seokjin moved his fingers, working Namjoon open deep and slow, crooking his fingers to find that spot and make Namjoon’s cock twitch. Namjoon arched his neck, giving Seokjin’s soft lips access to more skin – to kiss and to mark. 

The pleasure lacing over his entire being was heady, the thrum in his veins, making him lose every train of thought. It was overwhelming – the momentary absence of the guilt and the heavy sadness he’d shoved down ever since lunch, now being replaced with a sense of calm – the feeling of being loved, of being so in love washing over him in tidal waves, mixing in with the growing pleasure at the base of his stomach. 

Namjoon didn’t want to be the guy that cried during sex – who did? But hearing Seokjin’s soft concerned voice and his gentle hands on his face had the tear or two that were pricking at the corners of his eyes run down the side of his face. 

“Babe? Namjoon, what’s wrong? Talk to me,” Seokjin murmured, his eyebrows drawn in concern. “Did I – did I hurt you?” 

Namjoon clutched at Seokjin’s forearm, startling him where he was drawing away from Namjoon, fingers slipping out of him. “No!” Namjoon willed his grip to loosen but found himself pulling Seokjin even closer to him instead. “You didn’t. I’m just – these are happy tears, Jin. I’m so happy right now.”

Seokjin barked out a small laugh, relief evident in his tone before pressing the softest of kisses on Namjoon’s mouth. 

“You scared me,” Seokjin hesitated. “We don’t have to do this right now, Joonie. We can cuddle and then make some nice hot tea and just, chill.” Seokjin offered, nosing at Namjoon’s collar bone. 

“No. I’m fine,” Namjoon insisted, weaving his fingers through Seokjin’s thick hair, tugging his face up so their eyes meet, feeling Seokjin’s worry and hesitation once again – not hard enough to really hurt, but it did the trick, making Seokjin gasp at the sting of it. “Fuck me. Please. Need your cock in me. Right now,” Namjoon whispered, breaking off when the lump in his throat made it harder for him to speak. It had been going too well for him to fuck it up now. 

Seokjin growled low in his throat, sitting back on his haunches to rip open the foil condom packet, letting it flutter down to the floor. Namjoon balanced his weight on one elbow, the other hand helping Seokjin slick down the condom on his dick. 

Namjoon pulled him closer, wincing a little at the coldness of the lube Seokjin dribbled down Namjoon’s perineum, spreading it down to his asshole with his dick, hissing at the pressure of the cock against him, straining till it slipped past making Namjoon draw in a harsh breath. 

Seokjin was hot and heavy in him, moving slow and so deep, making Namjoon’s thighs tremble with pleasure, eliciting a moan from him each time Seokjin pressed up against his prostate before dragging out painfully slow, only to repeat it over and over again till Namjoon’s vision went soft around the edges.

Their thighs pressed together, already damp with sweat when Seokjin bottomed out, buried to the hilt in Namjoon’s warmth, the material of the dress dragging against his over sensitive skin just making it that much harder to exercise self control. Even more so when Seokjin looked like that – mouth matching the colour of the red velvet and feeling even softer. 

Namjoon wrapped a hand around his cock where it was trapped between their bodies and leaking pre-cum, pooling on to his stomach, stroking himself a few times until he came with a low groan, clenching around Seokjin’s cock, their pace faltering. 

Seokjin’s arms were trembling with the effort of holding himself up and then he was coming, mouth falling open, hips stuttering. 

Namjoon carded a hand through Seokjin’s hair – now darker with sweat – the black roots visible at close range when he bent down to place a kiss over Namjoon’s heart before pulling away. 

Namjoon hummed low in his throat, feeling blissfully fucked out until he realized what Seokjin was using to clean him up was one of his own tshirts. He contemplated whining about it but didn’t trust himself to have enough brain cells to effectively communicate his annoyance. Besides Seokjin was soon cozying up to him, tucking his face in to the crook of Namjoon’s neck so he let it slide

Namjoon felt himself starting to drift off until his whole body started to shake… because Seokjin was shaking, his breath coming in spurts, warm and fast. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Seokjin flopped onto his back. Wiping at the tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. He was laughing, and Namjoon stared at him in disbelief. “Namjoon, do you realize that we just took both of our childhoods, and basically kicked it in the nuts and spat in its face? Like, I don’t know about you but my childhood just died.” 

Namjoon groaned, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Fuck. I used to love Santa.” 

Seokjin snorted. “Used to? It’s okay babe, your Santa kink is safe with me.” 

“I do not have a Santa kink, oh my God!” 

“Says the guy that just got fucked by someone in a Santa Claus suit but go off I guess.” Seokjin yelped, pouting when Namjoon kicked him in the shin. 

He did not have a Santa kink. His boyfriend was just really hot, like, fuck me right now hot in all outfits – Santa Claus ones included. Namjoon could hardly be blamed for that.

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/2ndstartotheryt)


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